


losing battle

by Ominous



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: All in a day's work, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Nicky is now in a race against time to cover his own ass so Andrew doesn't kill him, Nicky opens Andrew's mail, Sexual References, fluffy andreil in the background, giddy neil, it's as embarrassing as you can imagine, nicky pov, nicky suffers: the fic, supportive Erik
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-28
Updated: 2020-09-28
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:48:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26689939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ominous/pseuds/Ominous
Summary: It's always been Nicky's dream to be closer with his cousins. However, when he opens Andrew's mail to find more than he bargained for, he finds himself regretting the wish. Unfortunately, no matter how much Andrew's warmed up to him in the last few years, Nicky's pretty sure he'll die (literally) if Andrew finds out.Nicky's mission begins.
Relationships: Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard, Nicky Hemmick/Erik Klose
Comments: 92
Kudos: 405





	losing battle

**Author's Note:**

> I decided to post this random crack fic inspired by this hc I posted on twitter! "nicky opening a package with andrews name on it by accident only to find some Very Inappropriate contents and having to go full spy mode in order to retape the package, print out a fake shipping label, and get his panic under control before andrew gets back in an hour"
> 
> so yeah...just a good 'ol yolo fic, completely unedited so you were warned lol ;)

Nicky stops short when he approaches the corner of the hallway and hears Neil’s hushed voice. It's so sudden, Nicky almost expects his shoes to squeak cartoonishly, like tires braking against fresh pavement.

“Are you guys at the airport?” Neil asks, and Nicky watches his shadow pace the small space anxiously, pausing with one leg raised. It doesn't take Nicky more than a second to realize he's talking to Andrew, on his way back with Kevin from another long weekend of recruiting new Foxes.

Nicky immediately perks up, head tilting like he can catch every rare, giddy inflection of Neil's voice. It's jarring, if only because he's used to Neil's calm and neutral tones. Neil can be expressive with his anger, his triumph, but beyond that Nicky would say he can be as bad as Andrew.

 _With_ Andrew however, Neil is so much different. It's no real big secret anymore, nor something Nicky doubts. Over the years, he and the twins have bridged a lot of their gaps, enough where Nicky spends enough family time with them to catch more of Andrew's intimate expressions and gestures when it comes to Neil.

He can tease them a little too now, without being threatened, which is nice. They still keep a lot of their affection to themselves, which Nicky has learned to respect. Still, it doesn't mean he won't take what he can get in these moments.

There's a pause where Andrew must respond, something slow and too vague for anyone other than Neil to get.

Nicky hears a suppressed noise, tiny but adorable. There’s a subtle lightness to it, and if Nicky didn’t know any better, he’d say Neil’s actually _giggling_.

Nicky smiles fondly to himself. He'd always hoped for this, for Andrew to be able to experience a bond like this. The connection he has with Neil is nothing fleeting or frivolous, but Nicky is relieved they can have fun like this. It's unbelievable, but there's no one who deserves it more. Nicky never thought Andrew would have this kind of romance, all hushed conversations and teasing flirting, and he knows there's more to it than that, but...

But, this is part of it too, and he hopes his cousin has it forever.

“I know it hasn't been that long, does it matter?" Neil asks. Again, a pause, a drawn-out sigh. "I miss you too."

Nicky watches Neil's shadow twirl in place, _cutely_ , and sighs. Okay, so even he knows when to stop. He smiles and turns himself around, letting Neil have his moment. Goodness though, he'll have to find a way to tease them both about this later. It's been three days. Amateurs.

A notification from Erik pops up on his phone right on cue as Nicky trudges down the stairs, watching the delivery truck pull away through the bay windows. He's not paying attention as he responds to Erik's questions about what ingredients he needs for one of Nicky's recipes, he just goes through the motions like every other day.

There's two packages on the doorstep, and he picks them up without giving them more than an initial glance to make sure he can balance them both _and_ his phone. He knows Andrew was saying something about some new board games he ordered, or maybe it was Katelyn who ordered it with his account, since the twins share…

Unbothered, Nicky grabs the nearest knife in the kitchen as he laughs at Erik's crying emoji (apparently, he burned his first batch), and slices the first package open. The knife hits the counter with an ominous clank as he fires back some hearts to his boyfriend, and reaches in.

His fingers hit something hard and textured, and all around _very_ thick.

And familiar.

Too familiar. He _knows_ this texture, this new, silicone smell.

Nicky's phone joins the knife on the counter as he inhales sharply, and when he blinks, the world is in black and white. It's been a long time since he's felt an instant wave of dread like this. As complicated as his life has been, the last few years have been relatively calm. The last time he felt this kind of anxious pull in his lower abdomen, he'd forgotten to submit an essay.

Nicky blows out a puff of hot air and tries to reel his mind back in, but there's nowhere to reel it back _to_. It's already been flung off a cliff. There's no reassurance or denial he can offer himself, no anchor of positivity. He knows. He knows, he knows, he _knows_.

Time slows down as Nicky freezes, hand wrapped around the thing he doesn't have the courage to look at yet.

Oh no.

Oh _no_.

Wincing, Nicky drags his gaze over to the sliced shipping label to find Andrew's name neatly printed. The sender is nothing more than a collection of letters for the sake of _discreet shipping_ , and it laughs back at him. He wheezes, and realizes there's no other choice.

He pulls the item out furiously, ripping off the Band-Aid to confirm what he's already realized. He need only look at it for .2 seconds, long enough to catch the bulge at the bottom and the flared base, before he's stuffing it back into the box lightning quick.

It’s so violent, the bubble wrap in the box pops.

Yeah, he didn't exactly need the confirmation, but now his brain _knows_ there's truly no going back. Luckily, the sight of the, frankly, _giant fucking dildo_ , is enough to bitch slap his brain into action. He reaches in to bury the toy back beneath the bubble wrap it came in and uselessly tries to close the cardboard folds back up. After a few pathetic attempts, during which the box does not magically reseal itself, Nicky curses and pulls it close to his chest. His eyes fly to the clock.

12:00.

Andrew's plane arrives at 1:30. Factoring in the twenty minute time to pick up their luggage and the ten minute drive back to the house, that gives Nicky approximately two hours to save his ass.

He weighs his options.

A) He can throw the package out.

Yes. Yes, he can do that.

But no, wait. Surely, Andrew would've gotten the notification of the delivery on his phone. Fuck. Nicky supposes he could lie, say the package was stolen, but then he'd also need to sacrifice the other package. He debates on how important a board game is, but he really _likes_ Apples to Apples, and he knows it’s in there.

There's also no guarantee Andrew will believe him if he tries that lie. Packages are never stolen from their house, not even when they sit on the porch for a week at a time while they're at Palmetto. By nature of how their house is tucked into the neighborhood, they're in the perfect blind spot, with rare outside traffic.

Curse his real estate savviness.

B) He can come clean and apologize for opening it.

A montage of himself being roasted over a fire greets him, along with several other medieval torture methods, and he decides _that_ was stupid of him to even entertain.

The door to the upstairs bathroom opens and Nicky yelps. He hears Neil trot down the stairs, and his muscles fill with lead instead of granting him the agility to conceal the package away.

"Nicky?" Neil's voice drifts in from the entrance way, but luckily, he doesn't come into the kitchen. Thank god, there's no way Nicky would be able to stuff the box away before Neil saw it at this point. He almost screwed himself before he could even _attempt_ damage control. "I'm going to go to the airport now. You know traffic will be shit."

Nicky bites his tongue to keep his teasing response to himself. Neil is probably just leaving early because he's too anxious for Andrew's return, too excited. But that's good. Nicky needs him out of here. He needs to give himself time.

Clearing his throat, he keeps his voice as even and cheery as possible. "Okay! Pick up something on the way home, will you? I don't want to cook."

Twenty more minutes, bought.

He hears Neil slip on his shoes, and the door opens. The redhead hesitates, and the silence which stretches between them is eternal. Nicky closes his eyes, and honest to God, he prays.

He keeps himself from breaking the quiet, digging the heel of his foot into his leg. He can't be making slip-ups like this. It's game time. As soon as Neil closes that door, Nicky will be on a ticking clock.

Another beat passes before Neil replies. "Okay, be back soon."

As soon as the door shuts and the lock slides into place, Nicky speed dials Erik so fast he's afraid his phone will catch fire.

His boyfriend picks up on the fifth ring. "My sweet-"

"I need your help so I don't die. No time for questions."

"Tell me what you need," Erik responds immediately, no stops or stutters, and Nicky praises God again for giving him a ride or die boyfriend. Nicky has no time to cry though. He puts the phone on speaker and dumps the contents of the box out on the counter. The dildo almost bounces onto the floor.

"I opened Andrew's mail on accident. _Embarrassing_ mail. I need to find out a way to _un_ -open it."

Nicky hasn't resorted to biting his nails yet, but he's getting there. Sensing Erik's confusion before he even speaks, Nicky jams his finger into the facetime button and flips the camera to show Erik how dire this situation truly is.

For effect, he stands the dildo up. It suctions to the granite.

"Oh _shit_ ," Erik's panicked voice comes through the phone, and Nicky jumps in place.

"No time for surprise! Only solutions!"

"Uhhh okay, okay, can't you throw it out?"

"Thought about it, won't work, trust me," Nicky says, a mile a minute. He's glad Erik can understand his auction voice. "What else you got?"

Erik throws the option out and runs a hand through his hair. Nicky doesn't have the luxury to admire how handsome he is. Fucked up.

"Got it. Can't you wrap it in something else? Another type of box?" Erik asks, and Nicky only thinks on it for a moment. The cardboard box, though discreet, has the letters of the company printed on the side. No good, and he tells Erik as much.

Erik doubts him for a moment. "I mean how well does Andrew really know this company, would he think twice about the box if you repackaged it in something else?"

Nicky throws his boyfriend the most desperate _'c'mon now'_ look he can muster. " _Babe_ , does this dildo look like it was bought by someone who hasn't ordered from this place before?"

There's a long, choked silence, or, long to Nicky. In reality, Erik's response comes seconds later, laced with pre-mourning.

"You got me there."

\--

In the end, Nicky dabs the shredded shipping label with some water, enough so that he can pull the paper off with tweezers and toss it into the neighbor's trash can. Can't be too careful. He’d be so good at _Operation_.

He gets chased by the neighbor’s dog, but it's a minor setback.

He uses a hairdryer to dry off the soggy cardboard until it's almost as good as new. That's fine too. Honestly, with Erik humming the Mission: Impossible theme in the background, anything feels like a triumph.

"Any imperfections, you can just cover with the new label," Erik says, cheering Nicky on throughout the whole ordeal. Right now, Nicky's fingers are flying across his laptop keyboard to doctor a shipping label, referencing the picture of the real one to make sure it looks identical. He's not sure what Andrew cares to notice, but with his memory, Nicky is taking zero chances.

When he fails at moving the 'e' in Andrew's name into exactly the right place for the third time, he slaps himself to _get it together_.

Nicky realizes with forty minutes to spare that the tape used to seal the box was slightly colored, not clear like most packing tape. He walks into Aaron's room, where he has a stress bag hanging, and misses his first punch.

No time to try for a second, he races back to Erik in a haze of chaos.

"Do you have someone to bribe?" Erik asks, aware that Nicky has no car. Nicky stops in his frantic pacing to raise a finger in an _ah-ha_ moment.

Fifty bucks and a vague conversation later, Nicky has the tape courtesy of their high-school aged neighbor. He hands the kid a bottle of vodka as promised, and hopes he can't tell that it's actually water.

He’s desperate, not irresponsible.

"Okay sweetie, you're in the home stretch. _Hey_ , look at me," Erik says once Nicky has all his supplies laid out on the counter. The new label, plus some back-up copies, the tape, and the original contents of the box. Nicky, shaking in his boots, looks over at his pixelated boyfriend. Erik's eyes shine in encouragement, but also a sternness Nicky can't argue with if he tried. "You can do this."

Right. He's come this far.

Nicky breathes out shakily and nods, and glances at the clock. He has ten minutes.

He wraps the dildo in the off-pink tissue paper it came in, then the bubble wrap. He closes the folds of cardboard like he's doing open heart surgery and wipes his brow. He feels a lot better once he tapes the box shut. At least it's resealed now.

He hears the car pull up into the driveway as he finishes fixing on the label. It's perfect. Good as new.

The car outside honks and he and Erik both jump.

"Nicky, there's no time!" Erik yells, and Nicky promptly yeets the shredded paper and remaining tape into the trash can, sacrificing his recent manicure to stuff it under dirty paper plates and towels

 _Disgusting_ , but it's his dignity or his life.

He _likes_ breathing.

He sets the box next to the other one, trying to make it look un-staged, and gives the kitchen one last once over to make sure he missed _nothing_.

His stomach sinks when he sees a 20% off coupon lying on the counter, and sees his life flash before his eyes.

No. How?

It's small and square, and obviously for the sex shop, but otherwise insignificant, Nicky must've missed it. After everything…he missed something. He grabs it and crumples it up, stuffing it into his jacket. Whatever, that can be explained away. Forgotten. Andrew and Neil wouldn't even notice.

The door opens to emit Andrew, Neil, and Kevin. Nicky's thankful that Aaron had stayed with Katelyn for the weekend, though it might've been nice to have a partner in crime _physically_ here.

He blows Erik a quick kiss before hanging up, the promise to call later unspoken but understood.

"Hey! That was fast," Nicky says, a touch too much cheer. Andrew glances up at him, but the gaze doesn't linger on him more than a moment before it finds Neil again. Andrew hums and cards a hand through Neil's unruly bangs. The redhead leans into it, preening, before his eyes land on the boxes.

"Oh, we got mail?" Neil asks, reaching for the packages. Nicky doesn't miss the way his eyes light up once he sees Andrew's name and the sender, and Nicky tries not to let his face slip.

"Yeah, I hadn't gotten the chance to open them yet, figured I'd wait," Nicky says with a laugh. He swallows the scratchiness of his voice down until it has no chance of resurfacing. "Is it another game?"

Andrew slides the non-offensive box over to Nicky, eyeing him. There's something searching and all too unsettling in his eyes. "This one is."

Nicky tries not to swallow too hard. "Great!"

Andrew doesn't take his eyes off him as Kevin jumps in, setting down the bag of food to tear open the box. Nicky watches him reveal some new games for them to try out, instead of the horrors Nicky had to encounter.

There's a few, actually. Not even Apples to Apples can help at this point, though.

"Oh nice, more things for me to destroy you all in," Kevin says as he looks them over, and again...he has no idea the pain he's avoided. Kevin grins as he leaves the kitchen, waving over his shoulder. "I'm going to take a shower, then we can play and eat."

Andrew opens his mouth, but is distracted by Neil's excited bouncing beside him. Neil's blue eyes trace the box before searching for something to open it with, and it would be endearing if Nicky didn't know what was actually in the damn box.

It's a good thing Nicky is shameless now, or he'd have a hard time not blushing.

Fondly, Andrew sighs, tapping Neil's wrist and guiding his hand in the direction of the knife block. Neil's face brightens as he trots over to it, and Nicky keeps his expression neutral but curious. That's what he would do, yeah?

Oh fuck. Maybe he should be nosier. Wouldn't he be nosy?

Is this all an elaborate test? Does Andrew know? Yes, yes he has to know.

Nicky stares at his cousin, and all Andrew does is stare back. That's normal too. No expectation, no question.

No mercy.

_This. Is. Torture._

In a last ditch effort to seem unbothered, Nicky smiles at him, and jokes with Neil. "Damn Neil calm down, is it another pro-team jersey or something?"

"Or something," Neil says with a shrug, and Andrew's eyes snap back to him when he hears the flirty lilt. Nicky would've never been able to hear it before, oh god...that's gonna wear off, right?

Andrew looks back up at Nicky, and the barest hints of suspicion that might've been there before fade out into oblivion as Neil finds a knife. Without so much as paying attention, he slices through Nicky's hard work, shredding the label and the tape. Nicky holds back a scream.

Then, the redhead practically skips away, heading upstairs ahead of Andrew.

It's just the two of them now, though Neil's call from above sends Andrew pulling back out of instinct.

Nicky was thankful for their bond for entirely different reasons earlier that morning, but he's still fucking glad it exists. More so now.

Leave it to Neil to distract Andrew long enough for Nicky to escape. He actually hopes they get in some alone time _now_ , just to wipe the rest of Andrew's mind clean.

It's his only chance.

"I'll get the food ready," Nicky says when Andrew still hesitates, waving him away. "Get showered up."

Andrew squints, but doesn't refuse. He nods once, and scans his eyes around the counter. Spotless. Nicky only has to race outside to dump the trash. Just in case.

"I will," Andrew says finally, sliding back from the counter with slow, deliberate movements. He knocks once on the granite, and when Neil calls out for him again, he has no other choice but to pull away. He almost gives Nicky a heart attack last minute. "Nice job."

Nicky laughs instinctively, his awkward reflex, and curses himself when it's strained as all hell. _Shit_. "Nice? What? Nice job with what?"

_I'm dead, dead in the ground._

The corners of Andrew's mouth lift up ever so slightly, and Nicky gapes. It's still a rare expression, and sadly not one he wants to see right now. Mirroring his boyfriend, Andrew shrugs, and gestures to the kitchen. "Cleaning."

Nicky's eyes widen, and Andrew focuses on him with hawk-like intensity. Nicky's not sure why, but he feels like he's lost. "Right," he whispers, weakly, and only when Andrew backs away and around the corner does he allow himself to fall to his knees, alive, but at what cost?

Later in the middle of the night, when he finds Andrew eating his usual milk and cookies in the dark, it's a lot more menacing than he remembers.

Andrew doesn't even look at him when he raises the plate to Nicky. "Want some? There's about...20% left or so, I'd say."

Nicky isn't proud of it, but he runs, and spends the rest of the weekend locked in his room.

_You win some…you lose most._

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! ;) This really was just a free write to warm my brain up, but I had fun with it lmao hopefully I can get back to my wips soon!


End file.
